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“Twenty-six. Today,” she added, glancing at the calendar. She’d almost forgotten. She glanced at him, thinking he would have been a really nice birthday present. If she wasn’t off men, and he was available. “And you’re thirty-six.”
“Not for long,” he said on a sigh. “My birthday is next month. I’ll be thirty-seven.” He raised an eyebrow at the way she was looking at him. “Now, now, no ogling,” he chided.
She stared at him with twinkling eyes. “Don’t worry, you’re way over-the-hill for a young thing like me . . .”
“Am I, now?” he interrupted. One big arm went out to whirl her to him as the other one caught her. She found herself held tightly against a suit that smelled of expensive cologne. Then a hard, faintly smiling mouth came down tenderly on hers and she stopped thinking altogether. He knew what he was doing, she thought dizzily, feeling her heartbeat race as that warm, possessive mouth became even more demanding, as if the touch of her had ignited him. It had ignited her, too. She stood on tiptoe, her arms going around his neck, as she coaxed him not to stop.
He lifted his head almost at once, watching her eyes open slowly, her face flushed with pleasure, her pretty mouth slightly swollen. “Now,” he asked, faintly goaded, “still think I’m over-the-hill?”
She swallowed, hard, and moved back. “Not anymore,” she murmured, her cheeks becoming pink.
He chuckled. “It’s your own fault. You’re very pretty,” he added. “But I really am too old for you, kid. You don’t even know how to kiss.”
She glared at him. “They don’t teach it in nursing school.”
“No problem. I’m willing to do the honors, in between working this case.”
She glared more. “I am not a project!”
His eyebrows went up over twinkling dark eyes. “Now when did I say I thought of you as a project? No, no. I think of you as an objective.” His voice dropped, low, dark velvet. “Not a serious one, you understand. I don’t want to get involved with you.”
“Not that I want to get involved,” she lied, “but is there a reason?”
“Yeah.” He buttered the toast as it came out of the toaster. “I told you, remember? She fell in love with another guy and just left me.”
“I’m sorry. But people don’t really choose to fall in love, you know. It just happens.”
“I thought she was in love with me.” He went toward the door.
“You’re leaving? But I’m cooking,” she protested.
“I’m going to get my dirty laundry out of the car,” he said.
“Don’t get lost!” she called after him.
He threw up his hand and kept walking.
* * *
By the time he got back, she was finishing up the eggs and bacon and putting them on a platter. Her morning had gone from boring to exciting to disappointing all too quickly. She put the food on the table, followed by plates and utensils and a big pot of coffee, along with mugs to drink it from.
“I made coffee. It’s pretty strong . . .” she began worriedly.
“If a spoon doesn’t stand up in it, I don’t drink it,” he replied.
She laughed. “Okay, then.”
She finished her eggs and glanced at him. He looked gorgeous in that dark suit with a burgundy tie and a spotless white shirt. She remembered the cologne he used when she’d been held against it earlier. He smelled nice. “You even look pretty good dressed,” she teased.
He chuckled. “Give it up. I’m years too old to let you get under my skin.”
“We can agree to disagree,” she said pertly, and with a smile.
Breakfast was nice. They talked about commonplace things. Afterward, he insisted on helping with the dishes. She didn’t have a dishwasher.
“There’s only me here,” she explained. “The washer and dryer, I really need. But I don’t have that many dishes.”
“Never thought of getting married?”
